


every you

by ninata



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: M/M, Post-Game, endgame spoilers, headcanon extrapolation, it's not happy brent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 12:39:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: Like the naked leads the blind. / I know I'm selfish, I'm unkind. / Sucker love I always find, / Someone to bruise and leave behind. (Once again, full game spoilers. Real summary/warnings in the beginning notes.)





	every you

**Author's Note:**

> Saihara can't move on. Ouma doesn't want him to.
> 
>  
> 
> warnings: LOTS OF SUICIDE, lots of it, lots of talking about it, insensitive mentions of self harm, vaguely grisly murder descriptions, talk about mental illness and Not taking your meds, one line of casual fatphobia, talking about sex, this is That Edgy Shit  
> this is going off the headcanon/au where saihara and ouma knew each other pregame and were ~involved~, lots of headcanons thrown in, for the record i Despise dubcon and Despise noncon but i hate telling vs showing so i want to make it clear any time i mention uh...'hurting each other' or etc what i'm talking about is Consensual Sexual Pain Play and not...anything gross. if it reads that way, i'm genuinely sorry, but it's not what i'm trying to write at all.
> 
> EDIT 9-19-2017: Finally got so bothered by the title that I changed it. Same fic.

Bottles and bottles. Orange, plastic bottles; their seals unbroken, pills stacked on top of each other. Shuuichi hadn't taken his medication in weeks, and the effects were plain. His hands shook, his skull was filled with mold, and Shuuichi saw Kokichi Ouma, someone who had been dead now for over a year, sitting across from him at his coffee table.

This was not the first time. If he replaced antipsychotics and mood stabilizers with cigarettes, alcohol and coffee in tandem, it seemed like Shuuichi could achieve the impossible. Bring the dead back to life.

A voice he hadn't heard in so long. The same flicky locks of hair, the same eyes that darted to and fro. Even Shuuichi could tell it wasn't real, but his delusions were notoriously powerful. 

"Saihara-kun…" Kokichi says, fiddling with the sleeves of his black gakuran. "You're a mess again."

Shuuichi thoughtfully runs a hand through his hair. He's avoided sleep at all costs, and he hasn't properly showered in days. He's been wearing the same shirt for the about the same time, but he hasn't needed to leave his apartment. It's fine.

"Why? Does it bother you?"

"O-Of course it bothers me." Kokichi trips over his words. "I hate seeing you like this."

"Ouma-kun." His voice doesn't sound like his own; like he's the anomaly, rather than the dead man. "Ouma-kun, Ouma-kun."

He repeats it a few times. He likes saying it. He used to say that name a lot, he used to fall asleep with the kanji of it burned into his retinas, phone in his hands. It's like ice on a blister. It hurts just a little less.

"Ouma-kun, let's have sex again." Shuuichi says, leaning forward on his hands. He narrowly avoids the empty take-out boxes and full ashtrays. "Don't you miss it? You miss it, right?"

Kokichi looks away. His face doesn't even gain color. Shuuichi feels his own face twist. 

"What? Am I no fun anymore? Is that it?"

"Saihara-kun, I-I'm not...I'm not real."

"I  _ know  _ that. But is it impossible? Does it matter? There were…you remember that story? About the man who fucked the corpse woman? It's happened. Hey, Ouma-kun."

He's silent.

Shuuichi takes this opportunity to light a cigarette. Kokichi used to smoke, too— bumming cheap cigarettes when he could. Shuuichi remembers, remembers smoking in the school bathroom to practice, trying to impress him. Vomiting out the taste. He remembers the smoke tricks Kokichi could do, a shaky smile every time Shuuichi complimented the clean rings. Shuuichi prefers his imported, but cheap cigarettes still taste like him. 

"Saihara-kun, I…"

"Is this the part," Shuuichi drags on his cigarette, blowing out a mad cloud of smoke, "Where you tell me I need to move on? It is, isn't it. Y-You tell me we messed up, you tell me you're, uh. Somewhere better? I mean, death is eternal bliss...something something. What  _ is _ it like? Is it nothingness? Is it heaven? Do people like us go to Hell?"

Kokichi fiddles with a button on his sleeve.

"Heeey, Kokichi-kun. Answer me." The shift in names seems to affect him, but he doesn't falter. Shuuichi wonders if he puts out the cigarette on his thigh if Kokichi will take pity and fuck him. Work his ghostly magic and drag his soul to hell with every thrust of the hips, sink his bony fingers into his skin and shred him. It feels good like this, imagining his bloody death at the hands of the boy he loved, staring at the space in front of him and seeing the face he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"...You shouldn't do this to yourself," Kokichi begins, as if he has any fucking right to criticize how he handles his goddamn grief with all the scars he put on his body. Smoke claws its way out of his throat. "Do you really want an answer?"

"No, I'm just entertaining you." Shuuichi spits. Kokichi flinches. It stings, but he can't stop himself from taking it out on him.

"I don't want you...t-to move on."

The cigarette sags in his hand. Kokichi fidgets.

"Y-You were the only one who ever v-viewed me as a person, and...if you forgot about me, I'd…"

Shuuichi doesn't like how quickly his eyes fill with tears. He stubs the cigarette on the table, adding to the mess of black marks. He knew that he'd say that. Maybe that's why he heard the words from him in the first place.

"If you forget...if you live on without me, then i-it's like it never mattered in the first place. Just another stupid mistake, or a phase, and you get on with things, and it's better w-without some f-fuck up like me, anyway…"

His hands are shaking worse. If he unfocuses his vision, Kokichi looks clearer. Hysteria is rising fast, something that shouldn't be boiled, bubbling and bubbling and bubbling. It smells sour. He braces himself against the table.

"You aren't a fuck up," He breathes out. "You aren't, you weren't. You never could be."

"It's the truth." Words Kokichi said in the game. The tone of voice is so different. All the false innocence and taunting, it's gone. Why does he have to sound so miserable?

"Kokichi-kun, you...you were one of the kindest people I've met in my life—"

"Y-You're already using past tense?"

The words hit him like ice. Like one of the kids after school grabbed a chunk of it in the winter and threw it into his face. Shuuichi wipes his eyes, shuddering. He can't think of anything coherent. Does it matter?

"I-If you were so bad, how could you...how could you put up with someone like me?"

"B-Because you were like me. I thought if anyone could care, it'd be someone who...needed someone. Someone who w-wanted to die as badly as I do."

"Did you use me, then?" Shuuichi's voice is caught in his teeth.

"Didn't you?" He forces himself to look. Kokichi's face is pulled taut, impassive all the same. "Why...did you care about me, Saihara-kun?"

"Why?" Shuuichi feels it rise again.  _ "Why?  _ Why do you  _ think?  _ Y-You were the only person who didn't call me a  _ freak  _ for wanting to  _ kill _ people. You listened, a-and, god, I don't fucking know, you touched me and you smiled the way you did and cried when you thought I was, angry, you cared! Alright?! You cared, and my own fucking...p-parents couldn't do that! No one else was like you!"

His hands dig into his scalp, tearing around for a moment. Angry, calm. He sways in place, trying to find something to keep him from collapsing. Physically? Mentally?

"I was— I was lonely." Shuuichi says, coughing out the words like the effort will make him throw up. "Nobody liked me, nobody looked at me, nobody knew I existed. It was miserable, m-miserable, miserable! Just, waiting for the right moment to f-finally kill myself, at least with Danganronpa I could make someone else suffer, but you were, y-you were beautiful, you  _ wanted  _ me to hurt you. And then I...then I didn't...w-want to anymore…"

Kokichi says nothing. Even now, he loves him, loves the ghost of him, loves the phantom of a thought. They hurt each other, wrapped unsure hands around each others' throats, matching scars and matching cell phone charms. Who else could make Shuuichi feel like this? He loved what they had so much. That's why he had to ruin it.

"Who...who would ever want to spend their life with a person like me?"

Kokichi stares back blankly.

"Who would suffer through life with me in their way? I-Isn't death better? Didn't you want to die together?!" His lips are wet. He grimaces. "Isn't  _ this  _ better? Your parents can't hurt you anymore. No one can. Y-You're safe, and, and…"

"Yes." Kokichi says. "But you didn't die, Saihara-kun."

"But I  _ wanted to!  _ I still, w-want to, oh god. But I can't. I c-can't die without you, Kokichi. My death, c-can't be beautiful without you. I fucked up. I fucked up." He tries to collect himself enough to speak. "I...We. We signed up for this, because...b-because I...I couldn't live with the idea you'd l-leave me one day. You'd realize h-how horrible I was, how disgusting I was, h-how everything around me  _ died.  _ You'd, see me for what I was, and leave. We  _ had  _ to die."

"But you didn't."

Shuuichi makes a sound. Horrible, congested whimper, bubbling in the snot in his throat. "I n-never meant to live. I never wanted to."

"Ironic, isn't it?"

It's not Kokichi anymore. This one has a plum jacket draped over his shoulders, rubbing at the blood on his shoulder. His eyes are brighter. His smile's colder.

"Heeey, Saihara-chan. Did you mean that about the sex? Nishishi. You totally did, didn't you? After you've let yourself go like this?"

Shuuichi doesn't know how to react.

"It's kiiind of pathetic. You joined this game to die, and you couldn't even do that. You watched aaaall your friends die, and in the end? Your own indecision and hopelessness saved your ass! Pre~tty lucky."

"K-Kokichi-kun…"

"Hey, hey! Did you know? I think I wanted to die with you too. Buuut it's too late for that, right?"

His face flickers. Bruises and bandaids.  _ Can I spend the night here?  _ Checkerboard scarves.  _ You should join me!  _ It's too much. It's too much. Shuuichi's breath is coming too quickly. He can't gulp down enough air.

"If, if I die," Shuuichi manages. "W-Will I see you?"

"Huuuuh?" Ouma says. "H-Huh?" Kokichi says. They're all standing around him, looks of concern, amusement, apathy, pity. "Don't you get it? I'm gone. You left me, Saihara-kun. You let me die."

"I didn't  _ want  _ to! I-I just...I just…! I wanted to be with you forever! I wanted to stay l-like this forever!"

"B-But you abandoned me…"

"It was a paaaainful death. Squish! Nishishi. Nothing left."

"I-I would've said yes, if you just...asked me to stay by your side…"

"But you're too selfish, right? You're a coward, right? Saihara-chan is toooo stupid to know how I felt~."

"I want you back," Shuuichi's nails dig into his hair. He doesn't feel pain. His heart beats erratically, dancing in his ribs. "I'll die. I'll die, okay? I'll d-die, just like I promised. Okay? Please. Please, don't leave me here alone."

"Ararara? But Saihara-chan left  _ me." _

"I didn't want to. I didn't w-want to. I didn't, didn't, w-wuh, want," The room is spinning. Shuuichi gags. 

"Do you think crying will make me forgive you? How pathetic."

"P-Please don't cry over someone like me…"

"You'll never get me back. Just your stupid fantasies."

"I j-just...don't want to be forgotten...I'm sorry it's selfish."

"C'mon! If you apologize one thousand times, slit your wrists and die, maybe I'll be resurrected! Juuust kidding. Were you fooled?"

Shuuichi gets up shakily. He's wading through blood. He was going to kill him in that moment, before he saw the mess by the hydraulic press. He was going to. And...when they saw the body, he…

He still has nightmares. Mostly about everyone, but sometimes his shitty brain chooses to conjure up things he wants to see the least. He's back in the game, but Ouma's nowhere. Nobody remembers him. Everyone gets strung up on nooses.

The game starts, and everyone gangs up on Ouma and kills him outright. His sorry corpse is unrecognizable, white ribs with flesh stretched pink against them. They have a nice meal that night.

Kokichi tells him he'll live with him, but Monokuma appears. He drags Shuuichi away while a guillotine cuts Kokichi to slivers. Everyone's sticking him with pins, poisoned arrows. His face goes blue, the blood coagulates in his body from the venom, his lungs fill with fluid.

Shuuichi barely makes it to his kitchen. He can't even get to the knives. He's sitting on the kitchen tile across from the altar, incense and a cigarette from Kokichi's favorite brand burnt to their butts in front of a printed selfie they took ages ago. He's sobbing, boneless, unable to get his legs to tense or move.

This won't be a beautiful death.

He wanted that killing game to be his last hurrah. He wanted to shine brightly with a burst of color, to be snuffed out and stamped into the dirt. He wanted to feel the life leave Kokichi's body, he wanted to create a beautiful mystery and watch it unravel. Then? Then he wanted to die.

A beautiful death. A happy death. And in oblivion, he'd be free of everything— the deaths of his pets, the deaths of animals that got hit by cars, of the father he can barely remember, of distant family and girlfriends in grisly murders committed by cousins he thought he knew. 

He would've been so happy.

But he's alive.

And...

He wishes he were dead.

He wishes he had died.

He wishes things were different.

He thinks tonight may be the night. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for the read...Misos helped me w this one and i finished this on an airplane because thats apparently all i can get things done on. i'm passionate about this shit and hopefully i can write one that's ouma-centric spoilers next? i have a few started. i don't like that everyone makes him an Uguu baby give me my beautiful consensual yanderes i'm begging you.  
> uh...  
> yeah.  
> sorry i can't write anytihng happy that's good. hopefully this isn't too garbage


End file.
